Ocean Eyes
by TheToxicInterest
Summary: Even the faintest colours can have a great effect. It started with BLUE eyes, turned into RED blood, and ended when GREY darkened to BLACK. [ScottxSamey, or Scammy. One-Shot.]


**Scott/Samey is an odd ship, but this came to mind after a friend of mine suggested the pairing. The story turned out far better than I expected.**

**Contains coarse language and a little blood.**

* * *

She reaches out to me, and I flinch back on instinct.

"What do you want?" I ask, maybe a little more defensively than I should.

"Just… Trying to hold your hand is all." Her eyes are on the ground for like the fiftieth time tonight.

"Look up." She doesn't listen. I roll my eyes, putting a hand under her chin to _make_ her look at me. "How many times do I gotta say it, Sammy? Look people in the eye."

"Sorry."

"And don't apologize so much either. That's why people take advantage of you: you're too nice."

She reaches up to touch my hand, but I pull it back before she can. Something about the way she looks at me, though…

I grab Sammy's hand against my better judgment, and we continue walking. She almost trips over nothing, and I have no clue why. I mean, it's not like anybody 'important' is holding her hand.

I watch her as we walk. Her eyes are _killing_ me in the best possible way (and I don't care if that makes sense). No part of a human body should be allowed to be that blue. "You have oceans for eyes."

A faint pink tint crosses her cheeks. "Is… that a compliment, Scott?"

"If you want it to be." I shrug. We both know I don't give compliments often. Her lips curve into a smile―I don't care if they're identical twins, I'll always think Sammy is prettier than Amy.

We end up at the stone bridge. It's early, about four in the morning, so the sun is still hiding from us. The river rushes beneath us, separating my side of town from hers. The area we came from has houses, _legitimate_ houses, all identical and dolled up for your standard Stepford family. White picket fences, 2.5 kids, mini-vans, and shallow smiles. To our left is my neighborhood, society's armpit: trailers, meth heads, and liquor stores that won't check your ID as long as you can see over the counter.

The river seems bigger ever since Sammy and I started our… Whatever this is. I can't bring myself to call her my girlfriend for some reason, even though I've kissed her a million times.

"The stars are pretty tonight," she whispers, turning to me with those _eyes._ They're full of life right now in a way they never are. At school, hanging with the cheer squad, her ocean eyes always seem ready to crash. God, I haven't seen anything so blue since―

My fists clench. I think Sammy gasps, but I don't respond. My mind is filling with the images I can't stand. Her smile, her sneer, her long red hair… The same colour as mine… Red, red, red, everything is red, why is everything _red?_

"Scott," someone gasps. "Scott, my hand! Ow! Let go!"

I release my grip; Sammy shakes her crushed hand, making low hissing sounds.

"My bad. I was thinking about Al again."

"You mean your sister, Alberta?" She rolls her eyes at her own stupid comment, muttering to herself, "Like there's another 'Al' you care about…"

"It's been almost eight years." I can say it like it doesn't bug me, but it honestly does, holy _fuck_ does it bug me.

"I'm sor―"

"Sammy," I warn. "You know I hate being pitied."

"Oh. Right." She pauses, seeming unsure of what to say next. "I can only imagine what it must've been like… Losing her…"

I keep staring at the river. My hands find the inside of my grey hoodie. It's frayed and worn, the only jacket I own in the world. "You can't."

"I can't what?"

"You can't imagine what it's like. I mean, you never really think about that 'twins have a bond' crap until you _lose_ your twin." I glare at the lights on the horizon. People's houses. Happy families. "When your twin is gone… It's hard, you know? Then again, you don't even _like_ your sister."

"I love Amy!" Sammy insists. "It's Amy who doesn't like me."

"Well, me and Al liked each other. You don't know what it's like, Sammy. It's this… This weight I can't shake. It eats away at everything, and it doesn't stop. It _never_ fucking stops. Something is wrong, something is fucking _missing_ and you can't fix it. You can never go back, and it kills you. You can't imagine how that feels!" I don't realize until I'm shouting that I had started ranting again. I can never shut it off once it starts.

Sammy grabs my hand, and this time I let her. "It wasn't your fault, Scott. Your dad was the one who―"

"I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

She shuts up. Her gaze is on the stupid ground again, and I force her chin up.

"In the eye," I instruct. "Look people in the eye or they'll think you're a pushover."

"I kinda am…"

"I know. And it's gonna be an issue for you after high school."

Her eyes find mine again, beautiful and blue. "Scott, I… I want you to know that I care about you."

"Um… Okay." I let go of her face. She's holding something back. "Cut to the chase, toots."

I don't know why, but she giggles. "I just thought you should know. These past months have been… Ugh, I can't describe it. They're just _perfect._"

"I'm anything but perfect, sweetheart. But… thanks." I smile smally.

Sammy liked me at first for my boldness and street smarts, and I liked her for her sweetness. With the way she tried to be strong and would always break down, she reminded me of my dead sister. Twisted, right? But I guess she sees me as a nicer version of Amy, so it all balances out.

Sammy makes a point of looking me in the eyes for what she says next. "Scott… I love you."

I try to pretend the words aren't so foreign to me, leaning on the bridge's stone railing.

"You don't have to say it back," she adds suddenly. Something in her tone convinces me that it's actually true, though any other girl would be lying. "I'm used to not hearing it. To be honest, I was afraid you were gonna flip out like Amy always does…"

"I ain't Amy."

Her grin is tiny, but enough to set off fireworks in my heart. "Thank God for that."

Pretending it's an absent-minded motion, I sling my arm around her. She practically fucking melts, knowing I'm better with actions than words.

* * *

Red, red, red, why are you so red?

Why is everything covered in red?

Is that…

It can't be…

I only left you alone for five minutes!

Why didn't you fight back? You know how Dad is when he's drunk…

Red, red, red.

Is that…

It can't be…

Why couldn't I protect you?

_Why can't I do anything right?_

* * *

"Scott, can you take my dog for a walk?"

"What? Huh?"

"My dog," Sammy repeats, a bit more shyly. "I have some really big exams coming up and he always wants to walk late at night."

I stare at the little four-legged animal: an all-black boxer puppy. It stares at me with this dim, confused look on its little face.

"What's its name?"

"His name is Mellow." The dog cuddles up to Sammy's leg, rubbing against it weirdly.

"Animals hate me."

"Mellow loves everyone." She smiles.

"Not me."

She lifts the puppy up to face level, her whole expression lighting up. She really loves the stupid thing, apparently.

The dog is in my arms suddenly; surprising me, it doesn't scratch or bark. "There. See? He loves you already."

Mellow starts licking my face. I pull back, looking into its innocent eyes. "Sammy, I'm tellin' you. Animals fucking _hate_ me."

"Please, Scott? It's already nine and I _really_ need to get some sleep. He'll bark all night if someone doesn't take him…"

With a sneer, I give in. "Fine! I'll walk the stupid dog for you."

Sammy lights up again, kissing me on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Scott! I love you."

I don't let her see how those words make my heart speed up.

There is always a gun on me. _Always._

Ever since Al… Alberta… I've never wanted to be unarmed.

I've kept this gun for eight years, and not once have I regretted having it.

I always promised Al that I'd protect her. That if we had a problem, I could handle it. After she died, I promised myself that I wouldn't let down anyone else I cared about.

I didn't think I'd care about anyone else… Until Sammy.

But I won't back down if Sammy needs me. I'll _never_ back down again.

I promised…

I _promised her…_

Red, red, red.

Your sister is dead.

Blue, blue, blue.

Why aren't you dead, too?

Ocean eyes…

Ocean eyes…

The ocean has run dry.

The walk itself is uneventful, so I have no clue why Mellow won't shut up.

The moment I open Sammy's door, the puppy runs in barking like a madman.

"Shut up, you stupid thing!" I hiss. "You're gonna wake Sammy up!"

It keeps barking. It keeps _fucking screaming_ and I can't make it stop.

"Come on, Sammy has final exams tomorrow!" I whisper harshly.

The dog doesn't listen. And it's supposed to be "Mellow". What bullshit.

Lights are going on. Somebody's screaming, the puppy won't stop barking, and I start to fucking panic. I try covering its mouth, but the stupid thing clamps down on my fingers. The bite isn't hard at all, but that little bit of misbehavior is enough to make me snap. Someone is stomping down the stairs (I hope it's not Amy) and I start to fucking panic.

My hand finds my pocket. Wraps around my gun. Everything happens in a flash after that, the pistol pointing at the stupid, barking, yelling, dumb little puppy and―

_BANG!_

―everything is red. Red, red, red.

The next thing I remember is Sammy yelling in my face. Like the puppy she had, it's weird to see her so upset. She's supposed to be calm…

"Sammy, what did I do?"

"The fuck do you mean _what did I do?!_" She sobs, "You shot my fucking dog!"

"I only wanted him to stop barking…"

"No, Scott! I don't wanna hear it!" She tries to push me away, but I barely stagger.

"I only wanted you to sleep… I wanted you to do well on your tests, Sammy!"

"So you _killed_ my _puppy_?"

I look down at my grey sweatshirt. It's grey, I swear it should be grey, but spots of red have fucked it up. They've dried into black.

"Sammy, I-I didn't know what was happening! I just wanted you to do well on your final exams because I fucking _care_ about you!"

I don't notice until then that her ocean eyes are spilling. Tears flow across her cheeks, tears caused by _me._ "Scott," she whispers, scared but sure, "get away. Leave. I-I never wanna see you again."

"So, what, all of the sudden I'm the bad guy? You don't love me anymore?"

For the first time in I don't know how long, everything is quiet.

"Leave," she breathes, her lip quivering.

"Sammy…"

"Leave!" she commands, turning away and sobbing into her hands. She drops to her knees, shaking her head as she grieves the stupid dog that ruined everything. "Oh, God, Mellow…"

"It's just a dog," I mutter. She doesn't look back at me, but I can see the drops of the ocean falling from her face.

I want to ask if she's serious, but I know that I'm not wanted. Sammy loves me― _loved_ me. I'm the one who fucked up. That dog was the only thing she had in the world besides me, and I killed it.

"You don't love me anymore?" I repeat. All she does is shake her head, rocking slightly back and forth.

Turning toward the door, I leave before she can see what she's done to me. My own blue eyes are too _grey_ to be the ocean, but they spill just like hers do. I just don't let her see it.


End file.
